


Viewer Discretion Is Advised

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fondling, Groping, NSFW, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the Dragon Age Kink Meme!</p><p>Prompt: "Requesting fill focusing on Fenris touching Hawke where ever, however, and whenever he pleases in physical, public displays of affection ranging from the cutely romantic to the borderline criminally obscene and Hawke being perfectly chill with this and letting him because reasons."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Viewer Discretion Is Advised

Original prompt:

In the games, Fenris is almost always the one to initiate physical contact with Hawke (the one time I think Hawke touches first is during a rivalmance and Fenris responds by throwing Hawke against a wall and then angry macking ensues) which makes sense given his rather prickly disposition, its probably better to let Fenris initiate the contact rather than risk losing a limb trying to cuddle the brooding elf.

All those tender, careful touches however just melt my heart and also make me think that maybe Fenris is a the clingy one of the two and Hawke just let's Fenris touch whenever and however he wants because he's hot and she has no shame.

Requesting fill focusing on Fenris touching Hawke where ever, however, and whenever he pleases in physical, public displays of affection ranging from the cutely romantic to the borderline criminally obscene and Hawke being perfectly chill with this and letting him because reasons.

Bonus if at least once its a clear show of possessive pride, yes hes touching hawke, and shes letting him! you jelly? you should be!

\- - -

It began innocently enough.

Sitting ‘round their usual table in the Hanged Man, playing Wicked Grace with the usual gang, Hawke’s evening rolled by like any other. The tavern was filled with voices and pipe smoke and somebody was playing a guitar. Fireplaces crackled, filling the room with a warm glow and the walls with shadows. They drank booze and bickered. Made inappropriate jokes and bantered. Hawke had just discarded her Serpent and drawn a Knight of Roses when Fenris- at her side as always- scooted his chair closer to hers, resting so their knees touched. And stretching out an arm, eyes on his cards like this was absentminded, he draped it across the backrest of her chair.

Her eyebrows went up before she could catch them, and she glanced over, but Fenris’ brow was pinched lightly as he focused on the game. It had been so nonchalant, had anybody else..? No, no of course. Varric looked at her with amusement. Beside him, Merrill ducked her head, failing miserably at not smiling. She shook her head disapprovingly at them but, honestly, Hawke was failing too. This comfortable, daresay _domestic_ turn of their relationship was new territory. And whether or not he meant is as such, this… public statement from Fenris- so stoic and for whom she had waited for _six years_ \- well, it was hard not to feel giddy about. His foot rubbed hers under the table, and her belly flipped.

\- - -

They held hands now, when they walked. Fingers weaved together, be it strolling along the streets of Kirkwall or hiking up Sundermount. In High Town they were met with a combination of squealing admirers and politely revolted Old Money racists. In Low Town, people minded their business more, save the boiling pot of gossip frothing from the nooks and crannies. 

The only people with gall enough to directly confront her about it were her fellow Fereldens, and frankly, that bit like a bitch of a dog. She’d always love her homeland, and feel an affinity for her people. But if they wanted to hate so badly, fine. To the void with them. Because she had never been happier and it was not their business. Fenris, on the other hand, seemed to toe the line about “not their business”. She’d caught him on more than one occasion making eye contact with a man and drawing her closer, the tiniest smug look on his face. He had a love-hate relationship with the fact she had so many potential suitors; that much was obvious. He displayed a deep, masculine satisfaction is establishing that, yes, he was Hawke’s mate of choice. Thanks for noticing. Not you, or you, or you.

Now, the pair was making their way to Hawke’s estate for lunch and some reading practice. They took the many stairs winding the city in companionable silence, listening to whistling birds, and chattering townsfolk, and dogs barking at each other. Children were hauling up water from a well, the breeze was dry and warm and the street smelled of baking bread. She paused, taking a deep whiff. A brief stop at a bakery may be in order. 

Hawke’s attention was caught by Fenris’ hand on her hip. It felt big and warm, pulling her to his side. She rolled with it, breasts squishing as she pressed flush against him, his arm wrapped around her possessively. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder, looping arms around his middle, and Fenris grinned with closed lips like he always did. Angling his head, he kissed her lips soundly; upon parting, his eyes flickered down to her mouth and back again. Their mouths met again languidly, with tongue- whose had started that?- ignoring the wolf whistles that had picked up from some no-names leaning on earthen walls. The elf moved his hand slowly and with purpose, up and down, from the dip of her waist to the swell of her hip.

\- - -

The adventuring party made camp on Sundermount- Hawke, Fenris, Anders, and Aveline. Anders and Aveline had their feathers ruffled, as usual, but not about the usual things. Hawke assumed it was linked to the kiss on the cheek Fenris had given her earlier. Or, the flirtations they exchanged as they walked. Or maybe it was the pinch on the ass she’d received? Whatever it was, they sure had their knickers in a bunch over it. She sat on the ground with her back to his legs, as he brushed her hair. It was nightfall, and they’d made a fire and dinner smelled fantastic. A rabbit they’d managed to bag, sizzling away with all kinds of delicious spices Hawke had brought. They’d stripped of most their armor, and Anders tried in vain to wash his face with canteen water. Aveline tended the coney, turning it over in its cast iron pan.

Satisfied with his work, Fenris relinquished the brush and leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss just below her ear. She reached up and toyed with his pointed one, tugging the lobe and tracing the shell and making him shiver before he kissed her temple and drew away.

“Your dinner.” Aveline said dryly, handing them each a tin plate.

Patting dry his face, Anders caught his eye. The mage scowled, folding the towel with exaggerated movements. Fenris smirked.

\- - -

She sat on his lap, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing her back to his chest as he read. Her legs were spread by his thigh, giving a pleasant pressure and making her wiggle a bit. Book in one hand, he kept the other about her shoulders, holding her close. It was a rather scandalous way to read a book, what with being in the mansion’s library and not her room, but they seemed alone on the second floor anyway. Not taking his eyes off the page, he leaned his head over and gave her neck an open-mouthed kiss. She beamed, wiggling suggestively against him, and she felt the teeth on her skin as he smiled.

He returned to resting his head on the chair and languidly, began running his hand across her collarbones. This quickly gave way to splaying his fingers across her breast, giving it a squeeze through the cloth. She sighed happily, letting herself go boneless against him. Lazily, he squished and rubbed first one, then the other. She felt her nipples harden in his hands, and he traced his thumb around them each in turn, taking his time.

“Turn the page for me?” He asked. She obliged, afterward letting her head fall back and eyes close.

He reached his hand down into her robe, fingers tracing over her collarbone, trailing along the edge of her breast. Still, he read that book. Long, warm fingers tracing and cupping the sensitive underside, holding it up as if weighing it. She squirmed, warmth growing between her legs. He fondled her casually, palming the soft, supple flesh. Moving to the other with a squeeze. Rough fingers gently running over her nipple, giving it a deft pinch. She bit her lip, face hot and breath heavy as he pinched it again, squeezing and rolling it between thumb and forefinger. She whimpered, and he jiggled his leg, making her bounce and rubbing her sex against his thigh.

“Fenris,” Hawke sighed, and was answered by a flick to her nub and a tight squeeze, her whole breast fitting into his hand.

“Hawke, darling?” Came a call from the door, and Isabella leaned in. “I was-- ohhh, goodness!”

But Fenris did not stop his fondling, and Hawke did not ask him to. “Mmmm?” Hawke hummed, keeping her voice pretty normal all things considered.

“Fenris?” The pirate put her hands on her hips.

Fenris looked from his book to Isabella, eyebrow raised. “Yes?” He gave Hawke a long, firm tug at her nipple, and she panted.

“I’d hate to interrupt you,” She smirked, eyes glittering. 

“Then don’t,” he said simply. 

There was a rapid movement under the robe and Hawke gasped. Face flushed and grinning widely, she asked as Fenris bounced her again, “H-ow ca-n I help, Is-a-bel-la?”

“Nevermind, dear.” She winked, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “ _We’ll talk later_. Have fun, you crazy kids.”


End file.
